


Fireflies

by Everyday_Im_Preaching



Category: Jet Set Radio Future
Genre: Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14107956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Preaching/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Preaching
Summary: Yoyo misses a lot, from before he was with the GG's--but when tragedy is besotted with your life, it's hard to imagine that you'll ever see them again. Beat can't change what's happened, and can't bring back to the life that Yoyo knew. But one night, after Yoyo expresses his love for fireflies, Beat decides to try and make do.





	Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya guys, been awhile since I wrote anything for these two, huh? 
> 
> If you liked this fic, and you want to see more for this pairing, please leave a comment below!

 

It had started with longing. 

Yoyo had been curled up on Beat’s bed, legs twisted in-betwixt mussed, mismatched sheets. He was pouring over pictures in a travel brochure, looking particularly entranced with a picture of a field late in the evening; moody reds and pumpkin-bright oranges tugged at blades of grass, refusing to let go much like fire not yet smothered. Tiny, bright dots were scattered across the page like scattered dice though in reality they were nothing but fireflies, frozen in endless play.

“I miss ‘em,” Yoyo had said, a sort of longing in his voice that had Beat jerking his head up from the pair of skates he was working on. Beat watched as Yoyo drew his fingers down the glossy pages. “Fireflies, y’know? Something beautiful about them.” 

“Beautiful? Ain’t judgin’ ya, but aren’t they just twinkly bugs?” Beat asked, turning back to his skates; he poked at a wheel with his screwdriver. 

Yoyo shrugged, and the bed squeaked as he shifted, going to lay on his back. He folded his hands behind his head, and when he deigned not to say anything more, Beat turned his head slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, doll.”

“They ain’t just bugs, yo. They’re a certain kind of beautiful that no light could ever make,” Yoyo responded; it sounded like he hadn’t even heard Beat. “Little flickering things like you’re playing with the lights. Makes you want to make a wish on ‘em.” 

Yoyo turned his head toward Beat, meeting his eye. The edges of his mouth turned down into a thoughtful frown. “I keep forgettin’ you’ve never left the city.” 

“Born an’ raised in Tokyo,” Beat responded without thought. “More just born than raised though, hafta say.” 

“Yeah,” Yoyo agreed. “Ain’t nobody doin’ any raisin’ around here, don’t think,” He scratched at his eyebrow. “You done over there yet, yo?” He rolled onto his side, staring at Beat. “All you’re doing at his point is starin’ at me—” Yoyo curled his fingers, beckoning Beat over. “—why don’tcha come over here instead? Can kiss me if you do.”

Beat let out an almost barking laugh, body shaking with it. “You drive a hard bargain,” He teased, slowly rising from his seat and kicking miscellaneous articles of clothing from his path as he came over to the bed. “But I think I can take a sec to pay attention to you, rather than that rotten skate.”

“Rotten?” Yoyo asked as Beat lowered himself down onto the bed, the bed once again squeaking and squealing angrily. “What’s wrong with ‘em?” He opened his arms and Beat curled into them; Beat pressed his forehead against Yoyo, taking in the familiar smell of oil and sweat. He added his legs to the mess of limbs and sheets beside him.

“Dunno. Can’t get ‘em to work right though,” He laid a hand over Yoyo’s side, curling tighter to him. He pressed kisses along Yoyo’s freckled cheeks, feeling the heat of them against his lips. “Think I’m too tired to think straight.” 

Yoyo loped his arms around Beat’s neck, drawing him in for a kiss. “Stay in bed with me then,” He insisted softly, playing with the soft tufts of hair on the back of Beat’s head. Yoyo dragged the pad of his foot across Beat’s thigh, before nestling his leg neatly between the older man’s legs. 

The idea of fireflies stuck with Beat throughout the week; while they were tagging, during supply runs—when he had Yoyo snug in his arms, smelling like cheap shampoo and slightly damp from where he hadn’t fully dried off from his shower. It kept his mind occupied, making it difficult to work on any of his pet projects, and he even managed to fuck up a tag he’d done a dozen times before. 

Corn had been concerned enough to pull him aside, lips turned down into a concerned frown. “Not wanting to pry or nothing, but you doin’ alright, Beat? Something eating at you?”

Beat had shrugged, shoulders jumping up to his ears. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong boss. Just got a lot on my mind,” He rose a hand, running it through his hair and disrupting the gel in it. 

Corn grabbed the brim of his hat, and then laid his free hand on Beat’s shoulder.

“No shit?” Corn asked, a single eye catching the nearby, muddied light in a glint. “Something that’s got you this distracted must be important. You sure you don’t need help or somethin’?” 

“No shit,” Beat responded. He gritted his teeth, looking away for only a second before meeting Corn’s eyes. “I guess it is important. Kind of sappy though, don’t know if it’s anything you’re interested in helping with.” Beat twisted his hands, then interlocked his fingers to pop them. 

“’Bout Yoyo then? What were you thinking?” Corn asked, freeing Beat from his grip; he hooked a thumb in his belt-loop, tugging his pants up. Beat jerked his head forward, toward a more private area of the garage. Corn sidled up beside him, boots heavy as the two walked. 

Beat shoved his hands into his pockets, drawing his fingers along the thin seams on the inside. “He’s been talking about home again.” 

Corn’s expression, previously light, if not concerned, now sobered. “Benten-cho home, or…” His voice trailed off, alluding to group home that Yoyo had lived in before sneaking off to the city. Beat bobbed his head, not quite nodding. “…well, fuck.” It was Corn’s turn to run a hand through his hair, lips pressing into a thin line. 

“Talking ‘bout fireflies, actually,” Beat continued, confident that Yoyo couldn’t hear them at this distance. Nor would he interrupt—hoodlum he might be, but eavesdropper he wasn’t. “So, I was thinking about heading down to Chuo, snagging some of those small lights they got—the battery powered ones. Fuck with them a little bit, make ‘em blink a little more like them fireflies, maybe cheer him up a bit.” 

“Chuo? Police have been patrolling that area heavily lately,” Corn grumbled, brushing at the legs of his paint-smattered pants. “Can’t say no though—but if you ain’t going to tag, I’d wear something less conspicuous, so the cops aren’t breathing down your neck.” He shifted so he could lean against the nearest wall, only shuddering slightly as the cold stone worked its chill through his tank-top. “Just ‘cause we cleared out the Rokkaku, doesn’t mean we get any sort of respect from the pigs in power.” 

There was a moment of silence, before Corn spoke again. “You pick me up some cigs, you can use the crew funds.” 

Beat clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Nah, I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t. Take it. Yoyo deserves to keep the happy things about that place,” Corn crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head toward the sky; his eyes only met the metal of the overhang above them. “Don’t tell him I helped. I don’t want to stain my name with any sort of good reputation.” 

Beat snorted, and then proceeded to roll his eyes. “Sure thing. I’ll keep your name as dirty as it was when I found it—in the gutter.” 

 

It took a bit for Beat to leave the garage; he had to run by Gum to pick up the aforementioned funds that Corn had approved for his use, and then dress down in something that wouldn’t draw attention. There was something disconcerting about looking at himself in the mirror and seeing someone— _ something  _ normal staring back at him, goggles and headphones set neatly on the table beside the bed. 

“Where are you going, looking like that?” Yoyo’s voice interrupted his quiet contemplation, getting Beat to jump. Turning, he saw that Yoyo was dressed in a pair of too-small shorts and his glasses, but nothing else. His libido revved in interest, but he turned away from it, and his boyfriend.

“Out. Gotta blend in,” Beat answered, shrugging his shoulders like he’d done a hundred times before. Yoyo flipped up his glasses, eyes skeptical. Beat rose a hand, stopping Yoyo before he could question him. “We’re outta some stuff on base and Corn asked me to go downtown. Ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.”

Yoyo slowly set his glasses back down, adjusting them across the bridge of his nose. 

“Yo, think you could pick up some more condoms while you’re out?” Yoyo asked; there was something in his voice, something that told Beat that he didn’t believe him. “We’re out.”

“Sure,” Beat replied easily, snatching Yoyo around the waist and dragging him forward. “Why are you wearing them glasses but no shirt?” He asked playfully, kissing at the bridge of his nose. “Making me wish we did have condoms.”

“I can’t let you fuck me when you look like that yo,” Yoyo replied, though it was with far more warmth than before.  “Maybe when you get back and look like a human being again.” He pinched Beat’s side. He propped his chin on Beat’s chest, staring up at him. “I love you.” 

Beat’s heart squeezed, and he wrapped his arms tighter around Yoyo. “I love you too,” He whispered, lips inches from Yoyo’s ears. “Remember, you’re off tagging duty today—don’t go around fucking with the cops unless you gotta.”

“I  _ always  _ gotta.” 

Chuo was boring, when you weren’t on skates. People were people, chattering and texting and being otherwise... _ boring,  _ Beat decided, pitching his shoulders around his ears as he pushed through the crowd. A cop car whistled past, sirens crying out that a crime had been committed, their voices high and shrill; he ducked his face further down, muttering under his breath at their presence, hoping it wasn’t a GG who’d grabbed their attention. 

The shopping district, unlike the sidewalk outside, was mainly quiet. Mothers, having dropped off their children at school, stumbled around with long lists behind the tall glass windows of supermarkets. Their carts were stuffed full of foodstuffs and goodies. 

Beat grabbed the cigarettes and condoms first, ignoring the look that the cashier gave him as he forked over what he considered to be an  _ exorbitant  _ amount of cash for something that’s only function was to kill you. Beat had tossed in some candy last minute too, thinking that something sweet might cheer up Yoyo—he had a sweet tooth to rival a child’s. He stuffed his things into his pockets before slinking off to the card store opposite it, muttering under his breath about judgemental cashiers; the woman behind the counter in the next shop he visited was far kinder, smiling at him and offering him assistance in not only finding the lights, but picking out a package that fit his needs. 

“You grab what you needed?” Corn asked as Beat returned to the garage; his hand darted up to catch the pack of cigarettes tossed to him. 

“Yeah,” Beat told him with a nod. “Need to get out of these clothes though; just standing around in ‘em is making me itchy. Don’t like blendin’ in much, y’know?”

Corn nodded, unwrapping his cigarettes. “Make sure you use the balconied corner,” He reminded, pointing in the direction of the shabby outcropping that was tucked behind the building in the far corner of their base. The only amenity it really had was the broken-down picnic table that Combo kept swearing he’d fix but never got around too. 

But it did have an overhang that sheltered them from some of Shibuya’s worse storms, when their rooms felt too stuffy, and had a decent view of what little remained in the way of Dogenzaka Hill’s residential area. Beat shuddered at the thought of his last visit there, with Yoyo—it had been in the dead of night, heads buzzing with the high of their last tagging run and maybe a little rum—it had begun as an attempt at a quick fuck, but ended up with the two of them half-naked and laughing, leaning up against one another and pointing out things they saw in the stars and how they were arranged. 

“I’ll use it.”

Corn lit the cigarette in his hands, lighter drawn from his too-deep pockets. He took a long drag on it before speaking again. “Not for fucking,” Beat didn’t offer him much of a response, eyes flat and unimpressed at the jibe. “Other people hang out there, y’know. The two of ya have perfectly good rooms for that shit.”

“I got it, I  _ got it, _ ” Beat snapped, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t know that I signed up for a dad when I joined the GG’s. Left my old man for a reason, and I ain’t lookin’ for a new one.” He pulled out the receipts from his trip, offering them to Corn. “Ya need these?”

A sigh left Corn, and he took them reluctantly. “I guess I oughta, otherwise Gum will be breathing down my neck later. The bigger we get the more she turns into an old housewife,” He scanned over the receipts, taking another drag. After a moment, he lifted his head. “What the fuck are you still doing here? Go set up your surprise. I got shit to take care of thanks to you.” 

Beat snorted, turning his back to Corn to slink off to work on the lights. “Kay. Make sure you get someone to retag Chuo though; some brats are trying to move in on our territory. Saw some paint slapped on the sidewalk down there, claiming it.” He heard Corn swear as Beat retreated. 

 

That night, Beat invited Yoyo to the overhang, trying to hide the intent in his voice; as usual, Yoyo was onto him within seconds. Instead of calling him out, Yoyo simply entwined their fingers and shot Beat a gap-toothed smile. 

“Close your eyes,” Beat told Yoyo when they were just around the corner; Yoyo’s lips bent in a thoughtful frown. He carefully slipped his glasses from his face, closing them with a tight squeeze. Beat grabbed his hand and tugged him forward, leading him over cracked stone and waiting until they were all the way onto the wooden platform before squeezing at Yoyo’s hand. 

“I like surprises and all, but if this is like that time the Golden Rhino’s tricked me into that cage, I am gonna throw you off the side of this buildin’.” Yoyo warned, meaning each word. 

“You couldn’t throw me off the side of nothin’,” Beat teased, rubbing his thumb against the meat of Yoyo’s. Beat was glad Yoyo’s eyes were closed so he couldn’t see the blush that had dusted his face. He’d made sure to nab Yoyo’s sunglasses, just so he couldn’t pretend to close his eyes. Beat moved closer, mouth inches from Yoyo’s ear. “I just wanted to do something nice for ya.” 

“Nice for me?” Yoyo asked, brow furrowing. “Can I open my eyes now then?” 

“If you wanna,” Beat told him, stepping to the side and out of Yoyo’s field of vision. Eyes slowly cracked open to view the area around him--and then stared out at the slow-blinking fairy lights against not only the dark sky, but against the glowing warmth of a nearby lamp as well. It had taken equal parts tinkering and research, but he’d made them as close to the actual patterns of fireflies as he could. 

Beat was pretty proud of himself. That is, until Yoyo began to cry.

Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, fat and heavy, before rolling down his cheeks. Beat froze where he stood, unsure of what to do. Of all the ways Yoyo could have reacted, crying was not something Beat had expected. 

Eventually breaking from his stupor, Beat rushed to gather Yoyo into his arms, running a hand through the young rudie’s hair. 

“I’m sorry, I…what’s wrong?” Beat asked, pressing his lips to the top of Yoyo’s head and running his knuckles down his spine.  _ I fucked up.  _ He hissed at himself, burying his nose in Yoyo’s hair.  _ What the fuck was I thinking. _

His thoughts were interrupted by Yoyo—the young man’s shoulders were shaking, but not with sobs. No, Yoyo was laughing.

“You’re so fucking gay,” Yoyo managed out, wiping his tears on Beat’s shoulders. “I love you.” He turned his head up, tears still streaming down his face, dancing away from his smile. Greedy hands rose to cup Beat’s face, dragging him down to accept wet kisses. “I love you so much.” He whispered against Beat’s mouth. 

Beat clutched Yoyo tightly, returning the kisses with equal fervour. “I love you too,” He replied, voice quiet. The hands on his face left to tug at the hem of his shirt, digging beneath it to grab at the smooth flesh beneath. Beat resisted the urge to let them continue, pushing Yoyo’s hands away. 

“You want to get all handsy, you’re gonna have to wait until we get back to the room,” Beat instructed, encircling Yoyo’s wrists with his hands. “Besides, don’t want to have the picnic I prepared go to waste, huh?” 

The frown that crossed Yoyo’s face was enough to convince Beat that, yes, Yoyo didn’t want the food to go to waste. Food wasn’t necessarily hard to get, and none of them ever went hungry, but it wasn’t something to waste.

“Food first then,” Yoyo grumbled, lowering his hands. “Then you’re gonna take all these lights outta here and put ‘em in our room for me, right?” He was pressing close to Beat, eyes wide and pleading. 

Beat sighed, nodding. “I’ll hook ‘em up in the room for ya,” He agreed, kissing at the top of Yoyo’s head once again. “Anything for you. As long as you really like them.”

“I love them,” Yoyo responded, nuzzling against Beat’s chest. “You’re too sweet to be out on the streets like the rest of us. Ain’t fair to you.” 

A hushed murmur left Beat, leaving Yoyo silent. “Ain’t fair to none of us, but we’re all here, ain’t we? Stop being depressin’. I got them sweet cakes you like from the bakery—go slobber all over ‘em and stop thinking about shit like that.” 

The pained smile on Yoyo’s face was kissed away quickly, and then Beat released him to the picnic table. He followed him over to the table, banishing any thoughts of frowning. This wasn’t the time to be worried about long term goals. That would come in time. Right now, tonight, was about Yoyo.

And he wasn’t about to screw that up. 

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the end!
> 
> Song for this fic:  
> 1,000 Light Years Away by Chelsea Lee Greenwood  
> Arms Open by The Script
> 
> Want to stay updated? Want to chat or shoot me a prompt? Have an idea that you'd like me to consider for this pairing? Feel free to click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to do all these things and more!


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